


One More Night

by OndineInSpace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bearded Chris Evans, Bearded Steve Rogers, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Smut, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers Feels, Top Steve Rogers, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OndineInSpace/pseuds/OndineInSpace
Summary: You can't stop dreaming about Steve Rogers since his disappearance several months ago, and it's taking a toll on your work as a new Avenger. But one night he appears at the end of your bed, seeking refuge, and you can't say no.





	One More Night

**Author's Note:**

> _Basing this "rugged" Cap on the set pictures coming out of Chris in Infinity War. This fic is both a request AND an inspiration. Enjoy my first ever Cap fic!_

**Your heart thuds as you press your back to the wall, breathing hard. You hear footsteps echoing down the concrete hallway, a rare moment free of gunfire. _Fuck,_ you think to yourself. _I knew we were dealing with things from… elsewhere, but not this fucking nightmare fuel_. You curse Tony and his dealings with beings from outside our dimension – well, except for Thor. But the thunder god isn’t here to help. And the rest of the team is split up in this facility, leaving your puny human self to deal with whatever was coming around the corner any moment. You grip your gun tighter with both hands, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your back under your suit. The only thing worse than getting caught is seeing the face of one of those fucking aliens again. **

**Oh, well. No time like the present.**

**You take a deep breath, and, with gritted teeth, spin out from your hiding place, ready to blast the head off of whatever’s there. You almost yell out in surprise, dropping your gun to your side.**

**“ _Rogers_ , dammit! I almost shot you!” you whisper angrily, letting out a breath in relief. **

**Steve’s hands are up in surrender, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “Sorry about that. Figured we’d have a better chance against these things together.”**

**You shake your head, grinning up at him. “Fair enough. I appreciate the company.” The supersoldier quirks an eyebrow at you, his smile broadening as you look at each other for a long moment. But then, over his shoulder amongst the dark of the ceiling pipes –**

**“Steve! On your left!” you shout, raising your weapon. But as the creature crawls closer to the light you feel your muscles freeze, paralyzed in revulsion and fear. _Shoot it!_ you scream in your mind, but you can’t move. Steve turns just as the monster leaps down, landing onto his shield and pinning him to the ground. He’s yelling, fighting against the creature, losing, losing. You smell the iron of blood in the air, you try to move, but _you can’t_. All you can do is watch in horror as Steve’s struggle gets weaker and weaker, and cry out his name.**

**“ _STEVE!”_**

You shoot up in bed, drenched in sweat. You touch the sheets, the pillows, your own face frantically, reassuring yourself that you’re awake. You curse quietly, burying your face in your hands. You’ve had a steady stream of dreams like this since Steve disappeared. In each one you watch him get killed in increasingly inventive and horrible ways, all while you’re paralyzed into inaction. You’ve become increasingly irritable and sloppy during missions as a consequence of interrupted and lack of sleep. Even though it never quite happened for you and Steve, you know these nightmares stem from your feelings for him that you didn’t acknowledge until he was gone. God, you miss him.

You slide out of bed and pad through your dark apartment to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and neck. You glance up at your reflection; _Jesus, I look like shit_. You sigh, dreading going back to bed and having yet another vision of Steve dying. Maybe you’ll put on a movie or something to distract your mind long enough to get some rest. As you walk back into your bedroom you freeze at the moonlit figure sitting on your bed. “Oh my god, I’m going nuts” you say out loud, but the apparition merely looks up at you. He looks like the same Steve, only… rougher. A dark beard obscures his chiseled jaw, and his thick hair hangs in his face. He’s in his characteristic suit, but it’s in desperate need of repair; pale skin shows through tears, and he has the dirty sleeves rolled to his elbows. You open your mouth to speak - with no idea what you were going to say - when his eyes meet yours, looking up through his long lashes. He gets to his feet, and you have to catch yourself against the doorframe as he murmurs your name.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced” he says, his voice quiet. “I just... I can’t let anyone know where I am and... I had to see you.”

You look up at him, willing yourself not to throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you were dead, Steve.”

He runs his fingers through his messy hair. “There were a couple of close calls, but... well. I made it here, somehow.”

“Where were you?”

“In hiding.”

“Yeah, you smell like it.”

A smile breaks across his tense face, and he raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I was in polite company.”

You can’t help it; you smile too, even while your fingernails dig into your palm. “You must not be talking about me.”

He lets out a small laugh. “I missed you. I wish I could have sent a message.”

You cross your arms, looking down. “I get it. I would have done the same thing.”

He takes a step towards you, saying your name again, but you hold up your hand. “It’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to explain.” You meet his eye. “Listen, why don’t you jump in the shower and clean up while I find you something to wear. You can stay here for a few days. It’s not big, but it’s safe.”

He sighs, then nods his thanks, heading down the hall to the bathroom. You rake your fingers through your hair before digging through your drawers, finding a t-shirt and sweatpants that your brother left behind after a visit. _He’s alive. He’s okay._ You repeat the thought over and over, reassuring yourself that this isn’t another vivid dream. You resist the urge to go into the bathroom and check that he’s real. A warmth fills your belly at the thought, but you shake it away. _Not now. Not yet._

You sit crosslegged on your bed, biting your thumbnail as you wait for him. You jump as his broad shoulders fill the doorway – you forgot how quietly he moves. Your lips part as you take him in. Dampness still clings to him, his warm skin offset by the white towel wrapped low on his hips. His strong muscles almost glow in the warm lamp light, his abs and pecs rising and falling as his breath seems to quicken. His blue eyes pierce into yours, something passing between you that makes you shiver. You stand slowly, moving towards him as if in a trance. As your heart threatens to beat its way out of your chest, you reach out, fingers brushing his jaw. At your touch it’s as if a spell breaks. Before you can even think Steve has you pinned against the wall, his lips hot and wanting on yours. You tangle your hands in his wet hair, pulling him closer as your body presses to him. He bites your lower lip, tugging to gain access to your mouth. You jump up, wrapping your legs tight around his waist. You moan as he grabs your ass, squeezing hard as he holds you to his damp body. There’s a thump as his towel finally drops from his hips, and the both of you can’t help but laugh. “Well, this isn’t fair…” he mutters against your lips before suddenly turning and tossing you onto the bed. You prop yourself onto your elbows, taking in the magnificent sight of Captain America before you, naked and throbbing for you. He grabs you by the thighs, dragging you effortlessly to the edge of the bed, before reaching down and ripping your t-shirt in two. He leans over you, beard scratching your soft skin as, pulling your hair, he bites your exposed neck, moving down. You gasp as his teeth find one nipple, biting and sucking as his hand tugs the other. Your back arches, pressing into him. Your thighs rub together, trying to release the pressure between your legs as he nearly drives you crazy. Noticing this, he keeps his mouth on your breast while his hand slides down, tearing your panties down before sliding his bladed hand between your thighs. You cry out as he touches your wet, aching flesh; god, you had wanted this for so long. He slips one finger, then two, inside of you, curling until they hit your sweet spot, and you cry out his name. He is relentless, moving quickly in you as his thumb circles your pearl. Just as you feel yourself starting to unravel he removes his fingers from your sex; you moan in need. But suddenly you feel the head of his arousal at your entrance. You meet his eyes, panting, before nodding. With a grunt he pushes into you, his length filling you completely. You both gasp, never losing eye contact as he starts to move in you. You both forgo any gentleness for the pure need for each other; the sound of skin on skin slaps through the air, his teeth finding your shoulder to hold you in place, your nails digging into his back. His hand finds your thigh, hiking your leg higher around his waist to gain further access into you. Steve Rogers is not talkative in bed; all he can manage is your name, over and over, as he pounds into you. Suddenly he pulls out, flipping you onto your belly and pulling you up to your knees. He takes you from behind, hand sliding across your hip to find your center again. You press your back to his chest, grabbing his hair, your eyes fluttering. He moves faster, faster, your breathing in tandem as his rhythm undoes you, then him. You cry out, your cream mingling with his warmth. You rock together a few more moments before falling onto the bed, spent. In the aftermath he’s gentle again, carefully pulling out of you, then spooning you close as you both catch your breath. You turn in his embrace to face him, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

He chuckles quietly. “Probably since the day we met.”

“Probably.”

You hesitate before you speak again. “Steve, I meant what I said before. You’re safe here.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to –“

“I –“

“I don’t want to lose you, Steve.”

He pulls you closer. “You won’t. I promise.” He kisses your swollen lips, gentle this time. “I’m not going anywhere.” You fall asleep in the warm embrace of his arms, having dreamless, restful sleep for the first time in months.

When you wake up the next morning to bright sunlight you stretch, smiling. But the bed is cold. You open your eyes in panic, surveying the empty room. You run through the apartment, looking, tearing it apart, but no sign of him. _Fuck. FUCK._ Could it have possibly been another dream? You slump down onto the couch, head in your hands. You hear the shrill ringer of your phone on the coffee table and grab it. It’s Natasha.

“They found him. They found Steve. You better get down here.”

 


End file.
